Being A Wayne
by ReKoJ
Summary: What happened right after Jack Drake was killed.


Being a Wayne

Fandom: Batman

Pairing: None

Dick was furious. Bruce had allowed Tim to give up being Robin and move back in with his father. Dick had never heard anything so ridiculous. Tim had loved being Robin; hell he had practically stalked Batman until he gave in. He found it hard to believe that he would give it up that easily.

Bruce, on the other hand understood where Jack Drake was coming from. He feared for his son's safety. He disliked and didn't trust Batman. And because the process to make Tim a Wayne hadn't been completed Jack had full claim over the boy.

Nightwing sat, unnerved and pissed in the Batcave. It had been over 3 months since Tim had moved back in with his biological father and Dick was liking it less and less with each passing day. Tim and he had bonded. Although Dick had never taken Bruce's last name, he had been legally adopted by him and so the two boys had treated each other like brothers. Now he barely spoke to Tim and definitely never saw him. Their communication was limited to e-mails, text messages and Internet Chat room conversations. Bruce may not have been concerned for the boy but Dick was. He wanted to make sure that Tim knew that if things started to go horribly wrong at home, he still had somewhere to go.

Batman could feel Nightwing's eyes slowly burning a hole in his back. "Knock it off."

"How could you?"

"Drop it."

"No." Nightwing crossed the room so that he was standing beside the older man. As he expected Batman's eyes never left the computer screen. "You need Robin. And whether he realizes it or not **you **have been more of a father to him than Jack."

Bruce lifted off his mask so that Dick could see his whole face and all of the emotion that Dick's words had caused. "You are entitled to your opinion. That doesn't change the fact that Jack **is** his father and I'm **not**."

Nightwing just stared as Bruce left to shower and change. He knew that Bruce was right but he couldn't ignore the sinking feeling he had. He had been trained to listen to the little voice in his head (that sounded a lot like Batman) and his initial feelings about a situation. He **knew **that Tim was in trouble. He also knew that the only thing he could do was watch from a distance.

~R~

Tim walked into the house. He and his father were actually getting along; that in itself was weird. Before his father's coma they barely spoke and the only time Jack had touched him was to hurt him. Now, he seemed all too interested in what Tim was up to. He insisted on supper being a family affair, he was always asking him who he was hanging out with. He was constantly hugging him or telling him how much he loved him. It was really making Tim feel uncomfortable.

As he shut the front door a strong odor hit him. He walked into the living room and backed up. His father was lying on the floor, a boomerang sticking out of his chest. Tim ran over to his father's side. He kneeled on the floor and held Jack's head in his lap. He could feel the blood soaking through his clothes and sticking to his skin.

A shadow in the corner caught his eye. He laid hid father's head back on the floor (by this time Jack was dead anyway) and lunged at the assailant. As the shape pushed back at him, he slipped in his father's blood. That gave the man enough time to escape. Tim called the police and calmly walked out of the house.

With a calmness that was all practice he got on the subway. He was grateful that it was dark out and even more grateful that his shirt was black. He took the thirty-minute ride from Gotham to Blüdhaven. He knew Nightwing was there. In the state that he was in, it never occurred to him to go to Wayne Manor. All he could think of was getting to Nightwing's hideout and being safe.

~R~

Nightwing had just gotten back to his hideout. He was tired but immediately on edge; he could tell that there was someone in the room. "Show yourself. Now!" He already had his staff out and had assumed a fighting stance. "Come out, nice and slow."

Tim crawled out from where he was crouched. Dick noted with alarm that Tim's shirt was wet; he had blood on his hands and smeared across his jaw.

"Timothy?" Dick saw that once the kid was in light, his eyes were wide and nearly vacant. He took of his gloves and brushed Tim's hair out of his face (noticing there was blood in his hair as well) and was not that surprised to find the kid's skin ice cold.

"Okay Timmy; let's get you changed." As he got Tim undressed and into the shower he was pleased to find that none of the blood belonged to him. He wanted to ask who the blood belonged to but he knew that now wasn't the time. He dressed Tim in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. The pants fit fine but the shirt was a bit big, Dick figured it was better than nothing. He wrapped him in a blanket. He discovered that when he tried to leave him alone on the couch, the child clung to him. He settled cradling the child in his lap. It was nearly half an hour before Tim fell asleep.

The phone ringing startled Dick, even though he hadn't been asleep. He had been lost in thought; he had debated on calling Bruce but every time he moved Tim's grip on his shirt tightened. He'd bury his face further into Dick's chest. He finally managed to move so that he could pick up the phone. "Hello?"

"Dick, it's Bruce. Is Tim with you?"

Disk was half tempted to tell him no. To let him squirm but being vindictive wouldn't help Tim. "Yeah. I think that something may have happened. He came to my place in shock and covered in blood. None of it was his."

"Jack Drake is dead. The Police are looking for Tim. You're part of the BPD, put the word out that Tim has been found and has been returned to Wayne Manor."

Before Dick could respond, he had the dial tone buzzing in his ear. That was just like Bruce. _Well, since he didn't wait for my response, he can wait for Tim's return_.

He hugged the still shivering child to his chest. It was clear that Tim was in no condition to go anywhere. He'd bring the boy home in the morning.

~R~

Tim opened his eyes. He knew the room he was in and it wasn't the room at his father's house. It was his room at Wayne Manor—exactly as he had left it. Without bothering to check the time he got out of bed and into the shower. He remembered going home and finding his father dead. But after calling the police, his memory blurred.

After getting washed he sat on his bed. He was aware how odd he looked but he didn't care. He had given up Robin (the only thing that made sense) because his father had said that it worried him and his father was dead. It was then that he realized that Bruce was the only true paternal figure he had. The only reason that Jack had shown a sudden interest was that he realized that someone else had been doing a better job of raising his son than he had. This had probably made him angry, and in reaction to that anger he had been determined to be a father.

Tim knew that this was all guesswork. He would **never **really know why Jack had done what he did. He felt his eyes getting wet. He bit on the inside of his cheek to stop the tears. He would not waste another minute of his time thinking about the late Jack Drake. He had a father and a family that cared about him. He smiled as he realized that with Jack dead, there would be nothing delaying the adoption process.

When he walked downstairs both Bruce and Dick seemed surprised to see him. "Tim, are you okay?"

When Tim turned his eyes to Dick, he felt a shiver race down his spine. He realized that there was something dark behind Tim's eyes. When Dick turned his gaze to Bruce, Bruce remained undisturbed. He had seen this before. It was the look of a child that had their security ripped from beneath them. The entire time that Jack was in a coma Tim was fine. He was fine because he knew that at some level he'd get to go home. Now Wayne Manor was his home, the only one he'd ever have again.

Tim blinked at Dick, as if awaking from a dream. "Yes, I am fine." Dick didn't know what to do. So he just sat looking at the television. Tim, on the other hand was re-evaluating himself. He knew that living with Bruce, being a full-time Wayne meant he'd have to change. He was okay with that; he had changed for Jack many times, being exactly what Jack needed him to be. For Tim, being a Wayne was just another mask.

The End.


End file.
